As the sun sets over the sprawling refugee camps of Cox’s Bazar, the call to prayer (Adhan) echoes through the narrow lanes, where nearly a million Rohingya Muslims are marking another Ramadan in exile.
Families gather in their makeshift shelters, breaking their fast with simple meals of rice, lentils, and dates.
Despite the hardships, the spirit of Ramadan fasting, prayer, and community remains strong among the refugees who were forced to flee Myanmar in 2017.
For the Rohingya, Ramadan has always been a time of deep spiritual reflection and communal gathering. However, in the overcrowded refugee camps of Bangladesh, where food rations have been cut and resources are scarce, observing the holy month has become increasingly difficult.
The majority of the Rohingya living in Bangladesh arrived in August 2017, following a brutal military crackdown in Myanmar’s Rakhine State. Over 700,000 Rohingya were forced to flee their homes after facing mass killings, sexual violence, and the destruction of their villages by the Myanmar military.
The United Nations has described the atrocities as a textbook example of ethnic cleansing, with many organizations calling it genocide.
Since then, the refugees have been living in temporary shelters made of bamboo and tarpaulin, relying on humanitarian aid for their survival.
While they have found safety in Bangladesh, they remain stateless, with no clear path to citizenship or return to their homeland.
Despite these challenges, faith continues to be a source of resilience for the Rohingya community.
Throughout the month of Ramadan, men and women gather at makeshift mosques and open prayer spaces to perform their five daily Namaz (prayers), with a special emphasis on Taraweeh prayers at night. Many mosques, constructed from bamboo and plastic sheets, have become central to the community, offering a place for spiritual connection and solace.
For many, these prayers are not just a religious obligation but also a way to seek strength and hope for a better future. “Ramadan is a time of patience and perseverance. Even though we are far from home, we hold onto our faith and pray for justice,” said Mohammad Salim, a refugee residing in the Kutupalong camp.
Women, too, play a vital role in keeping Ramadan traditions alive. In their small, cramped shelters, they prepare whatever food they can manage for Iftar (breaking the fast) and Suhoor (pre-dawn meal), often sharing with neighbors who have even less.
While Ramadan is a time of fasting, the ability to break that fast has become a growing concern for many refugees.
Food rations provided by the World Food Programme (WFP) have been reduced due to funding shortages, forcing many families to survive on as little as $12 per person per month. Many refugees say this is not enough to afford even basic staples like rice, lentils, and oil, let alone the fruits or meat that were once common during Ramadan.
“We used to have bigger meals for Iftar back in Myanmar there was fish, meat, and fresh vegetables. Here, we struggle to even have enough rice,” said Amina Begum, a 45-year-old mother of four.
Community-led initiatives have helped ease some of the burden. Local Bangladeshi donors and charities, as well as international humanitarian organizations, distribute Iftar meals and Ramadan food packages. However, the need far outweighs the supply.
“We try to share what little we have,” said Abdul Karim, a volunteer coordinating food distribution in one of the camps. “But as the number of refugees grows and aid decreases, it is becoming harder to provide for everyone.”
While the refugees in Bangladesh struggle, those who remain in Myanmar face even greater hardships during Ramadan.
Over 600,000 Rohingya still live in Rakhine State, many confined to displacement camps or villages where they are subjected to severe restrictions on movement, access to healthcare, and employment.
